


Final Act

by CaptainKidneys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s06e20 The Man Who Would Be King, M/M, POV Castiel, author's interpretation of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainKidneys/pseuds/CaptainKidneys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events at the demon Ellsworth's house, Castiel knows he should just leave it alone; there's nothing more he can say to Dean to make things right. He ruined it, now he should do what's best and stay away. But staying away from Dean is hard. And maybe, just maybe, there is still one last thing left to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Act

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so, this is my very first fic. It's also my first adventure in recreational writing since, I don't know, forever or something, so I'm very excited and a bit nervous to be posting it here for anyone to see. This thing started out as just a way for me to get my thoughts in order about the ending of episode 6.20, but as you can see, something else happened to it along the way. I've altered nothing in the canon dialogue or plot, just narrated what I believe went on inside Castiel's head at the time. It works best if the reader has watched the episode, obviously, as some of the plot events and dialogue is implicit. The title is taken from the transcript of the episode (thanks to Supernaturalwiki.com) as I found it fitting. Please, tell me what you think in the comments!

* * *

 

 

"It sounds so simple when you say it like that. Where were you when I needed to hear it?"

"I was there. Where were you?"

 

 

 

Where were you, Castiel? That's right, you remember. The back yard of Lisa Braeden's house, in the quiet intermission (quiet on Earth, at least) after the apocalypse was averted, after Sam fell and the cage was sealed, you came there to see Dean. To ask for his help in defeating Raphael.

But watching him, you stopped. Seeing Dean - the righteous man who went through Hell and Heaven for what he believed, the hunter who had lost everything over and over and in the end, his brother too - seeing him, you couldn't do it. Dean was safe, and though tired and grieving, he was happy. He was raking leaves, humming quietly to himself and smiling with the knowledge that _it was over_ and the few people he had left to love were sitting inside the house, as safe as anyone could be in this world. You couldn't take that away from him. As you watched him you knew he deserved it, peace, at last. And so you turned away from him.

Now he turns from you, but only on your command to _Run!_ and not without looking back, his eyes speaking his fear that he's leaving you for dead. Up until the last he had tried to make things right again, to get you back on his side, but you refused, making the final choice to stay on the road you had paved with your questionable intentions. The look of pain and regret on his face before he's gone is almost enough to rock your resolve. Even now he's loyal to you, and it hurts more than you expected.

 

~ * ~

 

You're torn. You know you shouldn't do this, that there's nothing to be gained, that it makes no difference at this point if Dean understands or not. It's done, you know it. But you can't stay away. There's this clawing feeling in your chest that needs him to understand, needs him to see that you turned your back on him to protect him, needs him to forgive you, because you can't bear for it to end like this. And there's another warmer feeling that just plain needs him, but you don't dare examine that one too closely - in all angelic honesty you don't quite comprehend it, and you deem it better left alone. So even though you know it's too late, your paths have parted and you're no longer fighting on the same side of the cause, you still find yourself standing over him as he sleeps, willing him to wake up so you can talk to him just one more time.

Dean opens his eyes.

 

~ * ~

 

This conversation is not going the way you wanted it to. For some reason you can't put together the words necessary to explain why you did it, what made you go to Crowley instead of him, and you _need_ to explain it, God, you _need_ him to know. Here at the end you need him to know that you cared too much about him to ask him for any more sacrifices. From the ring of fire you told him nothing was broken, but even as you said it, you felt it snap. The cause aside - Raphael, Crowley, souls and war and Purgatory aside - you know you broke something deep, something _profound_ when you betrayed Dean's faith in you. And you can't quite extinguish the flicker of hope that maybe there's still time left to fix it.

But your words fail you. And meanwhile, Dean is interrupting your half-formed sentences to try one last time to convince you, though you're not here to be convinced. Your path is already set, your hole is dug, but before you head down you need him to know. Your heart will never let you rest if you turn him against you now and never tell him.

"I want you to understand -" you try, but he cuts you off.

"Oh believe me, I get it," he says icily, and from the look in his eyes you can tell that he doesn't. "Blah, blah, Raphael, right?"

Tempted to retaliate you decide to press on, this is too important to waste time on arguing. You need to get your point across. "I'm doing this for _you,_ Dean. I'm doing this _because_ of you."

"Because of me." Dean chuckles humourlessly as he turns away. "You gotta be kidding me." He doesn't believe you, thinks this is just another in the string of lies you spun to keep him believing in _the good Cas, the righteous Cas,_  you realise with a jolt of pain.

You're losing momentum - you recall the human expression "getting cold feet" with wry humour - and it's all too easy to go along with Dean's mood and pick up the argument from earlier this night instead. Pride gets the better of you. Or perhaps it's cowardice. Because Dean is angry with you, even worse than that, he's disappointed. Betrayed. Hurt. You wouldn't expect anything else of him but still, you don't want him to be angry or hurting, not now.

You want to tell him that you're sorry, apologise for lying to him, and tell him how much he means to you. How you would do anything to protect him and ultimately that was what led to your betrayal, how although the situation is regretful, you can't quite bring yourself to regret it. You want to tell him you wish things were different. That given different circumstances you would have done right by him. That he deserves so much better than what you've given him, he deserves everything. Tell him that since the moment you laid your hand on his soul in Hell he never stopped being the fixed point you revolved around, the warm hearth you always returned to. You never stopped being his.

You have said some of this before in some form or other but it never quite hit the mark. "I did it, all of it for you," you once told him. Just now you said it again, desperate rather than threatening this time, and you think you're getting closer. It's hard, though. You're an angel, and angels aren't built for confessing deep emotions to human men. You're created to follow the orders of your superiors compliantly and without question, to fight and smite and die in the line of holy duty. Oh, how far you've strayed.

"I'm saying _don't,_ Just 'cause. I'm asking you not to. That's it," Dean says, leaning into your space. It's testament to the bond between the two of you that he can ask you this and by looking him in the eye, you know you ought to concede. Just 'cause.

"I don't understand - " you begin, and it's true. There's an abundance of things you don't understand, most of them surrounding this tiny, short-lived human who managed to captivate an angel of the Lord and make it his equal. The rest of your sentence slips from your mind unsaid at Dean's next words.

"Look, next to Sam, you and Bobby are the closest things I have to family," he says with conviction as steady as mountains and a certain kind of warmth you've come to associate solely with Dean. It sears into you and settles in your chest, warming you from the inside like smoldering embers. You know how all-important family is to Dean, it's a universal fact, and hearing him say this now is like a bellows-blow to your near-smothered flame of hope. After all you've done wrong, Dean Winchester still considers you, the angel Castiel, family. You feel as though your heart might actually be glowing. It's a strange sensation. Your eyes raise to meet his, seeing in them a familiar fire that is so painfully and beautifully Dean. In that moment you want nothing, could ask for nothing more than this.

"You are like a brother to me," he then goes on and something drops within you. A brother to Dean Winchester. That's not an uncomplicated place to stand, ask anyone who's met the boys. You think you may have had something else in mind, though that's straying into territory you usually try to keep your thoughts well out of. His remark has thrown you off momentarily, giving you half a second of clarity to remind yourself why you're here. It's too late to mend what's been broken. You need to say to him what must be said so you can leave and get on with your plan to beat Raphael and stop the reboot of Armageddon. No distractions, no emotional hang-ups.

"So, if I'm asking you not to do something… You gotta trust me, man."

This is your last chance, but as much as you've tried, you can't get it right. Time has run out. Dean's gaze burns into yours until you have to look away. He's towering above you, the set of his mouth and strong shoulders firm. Still, his shining eyes betray hope and heartbreak and though Dean has always been too stoic to beg, you can sense his silent pleading now. Oh, Dean. It pains and warms you all at once, just like it did while you were inside the ring of Holy Fire, just like it did when you were watching him, silent and hidden from sight as he defended you against their allegations, refusing to accept even the possibility that you could have lied to him. He believed so, so much in you. You don't think you're neither deity nor human enough to be worthy of faith so intense.

Looking to the floor you admit to yourself that it's over. If neither of you will ally with the other's cause and you can't part in forgiveness, you must make an opponent of him instead. Before opening your mouth to land the defining blow you've already said a silent _Goodbye, Dean, for now_. You just hope against hope that if there is an 'afterwards' to this, there'll be an opportunity then for him and you to reconcile.

 

"Or what."

 

The words create ripples through the space between you the same way a heavy stone does breaking the surface of a lake. You watch the wave of hurt crash over Dean's features and know that later, when you replay this memory to yourself, you'll be able to pinpoint the exact moment he resigned. You've pushed him to turn against you to the point where he has no choice but to give in. You wish he knew that you resent this as much as he does.

"Or I'll have to do what I have to do to stop you," Dean says. You can hear or feel him praying to anyone who'll listen that he won't have to fight you. You pray with him.

"You can't, Dean. You're just a man." Your voice threatens to break and falter, your throat inexplicably tighter than moments before. You risk a look at his face and an image flashes in your mind - you, standing above his lifeless body, slain for standing in the way of your victory. Your mouth tastes like cold iron. 

"I'm an angel," you say, knowing that as much as you don't want to hurt him, you can't let him stop you either. Raphael must be defeated.

"I don't know, I've taken some pretty big fish"

You search for words. There are many things you want to say -

 

 _I don't want to be your enemy, Dean_

 

 _I wish it didn't have to be like this, Dean_

 

_I'm just hoping you can forgive me, Dean_

 

"I'm sorry, Dean." Insufficient, but they're the only words you can get past your lips right now.

"Well I'm sorry too -" _No._ This isn't right, he shouldn't be apologising to you, you don't deserve to hear it. You're gone before he can finish.

 

…

 

_Please, please forgive me, Dean_

_I want to give you everything, Dean_

_I love you, Dean._


End file.
